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Almostconsuming. Almost enough to make me surrender to the moment.
“Jon,” I groan, sliding fingers through his hair. “We can’t… not right now.”
He pulls back, though remains close enough to keep me against the wall. He’s taken on that hardened, darkly sexy look he gets whenever he’s aroused, his jaw clenched and more angular and his eyes more intense and heavy lidded. For a second he studies my lips as if computing what I’ve said and then nods.
“Truce?” I ask.
He raises a brow in confusion. “Truce? As in?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m starving and it’s half past noon.”
“Truce it is then,” he says with a throaty laugh.
“You’re already here. You don’t have to go yet. How does breakfast for lunch sound?”
“It sounds like one of the few things I remember you being able to cook without setting off the fire alarm.”
Salvatore has incredible reflexes—he’s smart enough to step out of the way as I move to shove him in the shoulder.
The moment is like a truce. Another pause between us.
I’m still not sure what direction to go in, or where to even begin making sense of what to do and what I want. Salvatore’s no less adamant that I’m his and we belong together.
But for this moment we drop the topic and simply exist in each other’s company.
I make bacon, eggs and toast, making sure to point out how each item turns out perfectly edible. We brew coffee and sit down at my often-unused dining room table for my first proper meal in almost twenty-four hours.
The cats have stopped harassing us for food—while I was scrambling eggs, Salvatore fed them enough catnip they’ve happily trotted off for early afternoon naps.
“Glad to have finally gotten rid of your chaperones,” he says, snapping in half a strip of bacon.
I almost choke on my coffee. “You say that like they’re guarding me from you.”
“They might as well be. You see how Salt glares at me sometimes?”
“Oh,please—Salt loves you! Half the time he’s betraying me for you.”
“Not true. He’s a deep-cover spy. He wants me to think he likes me. Really, he’s keeping his enemies closer. Can’t say I blame him—he wants to be the only alpha male around.”
I’m laughing as I wipe my mouth with my napkin and shake my head. “Do you realize how crazy you sound? Salt is acat.”
“Those devil ears reveal a lot about him.”
“You’re actually insane.”
“Yet here you are, eating breakfast for lunch with me,” Salvatore taunts with a glint in his blue-green gaze.
He’s got a point.
I bite my bottom lip, tempted to smile. “What were you doing last night anyway? In Westoria? Second time in weeks you’ve caught me sneaking around Little’s house. Were you driving Stefania home again?”
The glint disappears. His face loses any trace of subtle warmth and he returns to his plate of food, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth and attacking a couple pieces of bacon.
“Jon,” I say after a few seconds. An uneasy feeling settles over me. I can always read him just as well as he reads me. “What is it?”
“Stefania’s dead.”
I gasp. My fork drops with a clang against my plate and my hands fly up to my mouth. “Oh my god, Jon. That’s… that’s terrible. When did this happen?”
